


Frost of the Evening

by ParadiseAvenger



Series: Kink Meme Fills [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), rise of the brave tangled frozen dragons - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, M/M, Multi, Prostitution, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Invisible for three hundred years, Jack Frost sought attention from other spirits, but they were only interested in him for one thing and Jack was desperate enough to give in. Then, the Guardians came along and things changed, or did they? (JackRabbit and other pairings if you squint.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frost of the Evening

Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! **The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.** (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

…

Kink meme fill for ‘The Community Bike.’ (Original prompt at bottom.) I really should be working on 'Broken Hallelujah,' but I’m going through a hate stage so I thought I’d play with Jack Frost a little. He’s just too adorable when he’s all hurt and teary.

Fun fact: ‘Lady of the Evening’ is another word for a prostitute.

X X X

Jack Frost lay comfortably in the bed of flowers and roots, the quilted sheet draped over his bare body. He gazed at his still-sleeping partner, her chest rising evenly with each deep breath. She was beautiful—her tangled red curls threaded with flowers and leaves, her skin a shade of peach, and her warm body pressed deliciously against the cool skin of his forearm. She never allowed him to cuddle against her since his body was too cold for a summer spirit to bear, but this was enough for Jack.

Anything was better than the aching loneliness that ate at his soul more and more each year. 

Slowly, the summer spirit began to stir into wakefulness. She moaned softly and shifted so that the sheet slid down off her shoulder and exposed the pale curve of her breast. Jack quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Maybe this time, she would let him stay a little longer. Maybe if he feigned asleep, she wouldn’t turn him out immediately. 

The summer spirit woke with a soft murmur and sat up slowly. She pushed her hands through her banner of red curls, brushing leaves and flowers out of her face. She glanced sideways at her bed partner, still sleeping peacefully with his pale hair strewn against the dark nest. She stretched widely and let out a loud yawn. Even so, the pale winter spirit curled beside her didn’t stir. 

“Jack,” she said softly and reached to touch his cold shoulder. 

Just as he had in the throes of their passion the night before, he leaned into her touch with a desperation that would have been adorable if it wasn’t so pathetic. She withdrew her hand and stared at him as he woke up. 

“Good morning,” Jack said sweetly once his blue eyes had focused on her. “Did you sleep well?”

“Fine, thank you,” the summer spirit said evenly. “But I need to get back to work—sunlight to bridle, flowers to bloom, heat waves to bring, grass to grow—you know, summer stuff.”

Jack sat up beside her, the quilt pooling in his lap. Frost sparkled on toned chest, on his long-fingered hands, on his pale hair. “Can’t I stay?” he asked pleadingly with those eyes of his like deep water. “I can keep my powers under control and I won’t get in your way. I promise.”

‘Oh, Mother Nature,’ she thought. ‘He’s so gorgeous, but so needy and exploitable.’ 

It was always too easy to get Jack Frost into her bed and it became increasingly easier to get him to come back. He was a good lay, always putting her pleasure first when he serviced her with his cold tongue and chilling her overheated skin afterwards, but Jack was too lonely to keep around for very long. He stifled her with his constant need for touch, his endless prattle, his unbearable closeness. 

With practiced ease, the summer spirit leaned in, kissed him gently on the lips, and ran the tips of her fingers down the curve of his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into her touch just as hungrily as he always did.

“Sorry, Jack,” she lied smoothly, “but I have to work alone. It wouldn’t do for the seasons to interfere with each other.”

Jack’s eyes opened only after she pulled away, soft and sad. “Okay,” he murmured. “Can we do this again sometime?”

The summer spirit nodded, tucked a curl of red hair behind her ear, and assured him loftily, “Of course. In two months, it will be my off-season. Why don’t you stop by then?”

“Two months?” Jack repeated and his voice was like ice when water poured over it.

She slipped her fingers beneath his chin, watched him relish the touch like a drowning man, and lifted his head just a few inches so she could look into his deep lonely eyes. “Oh, Jack, don’t be sad. We’ll see each other soon,” she consoled him with a smile.

“I know,” he murmured, “but two months is a long time.”

“It won’t be so bad,” she told him. “You’ll see.”

Then, nude, she stepped out of bed and slipped her arms into the sleeves of her favorite silk robe embroidered with chrysanthemums. After knotting it closed, she gathered Jack’s clothes from the floor, handed him his staff, and swept aside the beaded and flower-studded curtain that led into her den.

“Now?” Jack asked from where he still remained in her bed.

This was the hard part of bedding Jack Frost, she thought with an inward sigh. Sometimes, she wondered if it was worth it to tolerate him just for a few fleeting orgasms and cool night of undisturbed rest. The next morning when she asked him to leave, he always looked at her as if she was ripping out his heart. Even so, she nodded and tipped her head towards the sunny sky in a cascade of red curls. “Yes, Jack, now,” she said sternly. “I told you I have work to do.”

Jack climbed out of her bed, took a moment to hastily pull on his pants, and then stepped outside into the buttery sunlight. “See you in two months,” he said softly to the summer spirit looking at him with bright cornflower eyes.

She nodded, “I’ll look forward to it.” Then, as she always had to, she reminded him, “This didn’t mean anything. You can be with other spirits or humans or whatever. Winter and summer aren’t exactly going to work out as a lasting commitment.”

Jack wet his lips and hoped he didn’t look as sad as he felt inside. “I know,” he said softly.

No matter how many times she told him they this was just a fling, he always looked as if he thought she would change her mind. The summer spirit tossed him a single flower and let the curtain to her den fall closed. Jack stood outside for a long moment, wishing that she’d open the curtain and invite him inside again. When nothing changed except the breeze, Jack allowed the wind to lift and spirit him away as if the loneliness wouldn’t follow.

It was always like this.

…

A long slow month passed by Jack Frost. The children couldn’t see him no matter what he tried—not throwing out-of-season snowballs nor instigating wild icy rides nor screaming at the top of his lungs. They passed through him, giggling and chattering, without ever noticing he was there. Jack talked to himself constantly, a stream of noise that filled the void hopelessly, but that did little to assuage his loneliness. At night, he lay in trees with his hands resting on bare skin, but his own touch was nothing compared to the warm caress of another. 

The loneliness was a burr, a wound that would never heal, a rend in his soul that still seeped blood.

Children didn’t believe in him. The Man in the Moon wouldn’t answer him. 

He was alone, invisible, unseen, unheard.

Finally, Jack couldn’t bear it any longer. He needed someone to look at him, to talk to him, maybe even touch him. Jack left behind the small town he was visiting and scoured the globe. He thought about returning to the den of the redheaded summer spirit, but he knew he wouldn’t be welcome there. She only wanted to see him when _she_ wanted to see him. Summer was still in full swing anyway.

Jack glided low over Europe and brought a little snow to the highest mountains as he searched for a fellow spirit. Even if children couldn’t see him and the Moon ignored him, Jack would find others, just like the summer spirit he visited occasionally. Maybe there was someone as lonely as he was, someone he could stay with all the time…

For a moment, lost in his thoughts, Jack didn’t see the fall sprite. After all, he blended in with his surroundings effortlessly. He wore a green tunic with bronze leaves woven into a vest that laced across his lean chest, his hair was earthen brown, and his skin was dappled with freckles. Jack would have flown right passed him if not for the single glint of metal. The sprite must have been injured at some point and his left foot ended in a curious old-fashioned replacement.

Brimming with excitement, Jack landed atop a tall pine and clambered down through the branches cautiously. He had jumped right into conversation with fellow spirits before and wound up hurt out of reflex or rage. He observed the autumn spirit for a long moment, holding his breath, watching.

Abruptly, the fall sprite said, “I know you’re up there and I don’t have time for games so just come down.”

Startled, Jack slipped down from the branch and landed softly before the autumn spirit. “Hi,” he said softly.

The fall spirit glanced at him and then turned back to the bush he was studying. “Yes, hello,” he said busily. “What do you want? You’re a winter spirit, aren’t you? What are you doing out here during summer’s time?”

“Just looking for someone to talk to,” Jack put in gingerly. He always felt like this when he spoke to a new spirit. He didn’t have the skills to craft a convincing story as to why he was out here so he just told the truth and put his heart on display.

The fall spirit flicked his grass-green eyes at Jack and then back to the bush. “Don’t you have some friendly winter spirits to play with?”

“No,” Jack admitted. “So I was hoping—”

“Forget it,” the fall spirit interrupted. “I’m too busy to play with you.”

“I don’t need to play,” Jack protested. “I’ll help you if you just talk to me for a little while.”

The fall sprite snorted and turned to say something scathing when he saw the earnest expression on this winter spirit’s face. Apparently, this guy was telling the truth. His blue eyes were filled with painful loneliness and the fall sprite suddenly wondered if each snowflake was unique and perfect because this winter spirit had too much time on his hands. But that didn’t change anything.

“I don’t need help,” the fall spirit said sternly.

Jack withered under the cold green gaze. “But—”

“What makes you think a fall spirit needs help from winter?” he snapped. “Do you need me to help you with your season?”

“Well, no—”

“Buck off!” the fall sprite said bitterly and waved Jack away with one hand. “I don’t have time to deal with you and you’re making me angry.”

Jack took a step backwards and stared mournfully at the angry autumn spirit. “I didn’t mean to imply anything,” he tried one final time. “I just wanted to—”

The fall spirit whirled on him, stomping down hard with his metal foot. “What part of ‘leave’ didn’t you understand?” he demanded. “Do you want me to hurt you?”

“Can I just—”

Smoothly, the fall sprite struck Jack across the face. Searing heat fringed with cold lingered in the wake of the violent slap and Jack gasped, lifting a hand to cup his stinging cheek. As much as he hated to admit it, even in the private recesses of his mind, he craved contact—even this sort of contact. At least it was something and it made him feel alive. 

“Get out of here!” the fall spirit shouted.

Jack remained and slowly lowered his hand from his cheek. The fall spirit lifted his hand again, but Jack didn’t flinch. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the blow that never came. Finally, Jack opened his eyes and stared at the other spirit.

The fall spirit was just standing there, looking Jack up and down. “You must be pretty stupid,” he muttered and lowered his hand.

Jack shook his head. “No, I just…”

“You’re that desperate,” the fall sprite finished. He pushed a hand through his hair and turned his attention back to the bush he was dusting with gold. “Stay, then,” he said. “But try not to bother me too much. Maybe later, I’ll have time to talk to you.”

Jack smiled and stayed. He pulled himself onto the crook of his staff, swaying there with the wind and taking up less space. He watched the other spirit work in silence. It wasn’t much and Jack wished there was more, but it was enough just to be with another person who occasionally glanced over his shoulder curiously to see if Jack was still lingering there. Jack always smiled broadly at the fall spirit when this happened and the boy turned sharply to his work without speaking. Finally, just as the horizon was lighting up with bright reds and yellows, the fall spirit finished.

“Alright,” he said to Jack, jolting the winter sprite from his quiet musings. “I can’t believe you stayed all day.”

Jack smiled. “So… do you have some time now?”

The fall spirit nodded. “I guess so. You can follow me home,” he said lightly, “if you can keep up.” Then, with a mischievous grin, he bounded off through the woods like a deer.  
Jack gusted after him, the wind carrying him light and quick. It didn’t take long for him to catch up with the fall spirit. Together, they raced through the whirling forest until they reached the other side. Like a book falling open to a blank page, the forest opened into a wide grassy field.

“I’m surprised you kept up,” the fall spirit remarked as he moved through the high grass. “You’re alright, winter sprite.”

“I’m Jack Frost,” he offered.

The fall spirit nodded, but didn’t offer his own name. He continued through the grass until he reached the single tree that stood in the center of the field. He pressed at an invisible seam and a small doorway swung open. “Come on inside,” he said. “Don’t freeze anything.”

“I won’t,” Jack promised and clambered down after his newfound friend.

The tree was hollow inside and a spiral staircase had been carved through the trunk. Jack tripped down the steps in the dark and found himself standing in a small underground home complete with a bed, an intricately-carved dresser, a small round table, and even a small wood-burning stove.

“Do you have a chimney?” Jack asked curiously.

“Do I have a chimney?” the fall spirit repeated with a snort. “Of course I do.” He placed a small bronze teapot on the stove and turned to Jack, “Do you mind?”

Jack nodded, crossed to the stove, and conjured snow to fill the teapot. 

“Thanks,” the fall spirit said.

Jack leaned close, watching everything the fall spirit did with interest.

“So,” the fall spirit said after a moment of silence. “Jack Frost, was it? I think I’ve heard about you.”

“You have?” Jack asked. 

“All good things,” the fall spirit said evasively. “So, do you want some tea? It’s very good with a little cinnamon.”

Jack nodded. “But not too hot,” he said.

The fall spirit chuckled and poured the hot water into two mugs. “Of course,” he said as he added tea and honey. “Winter spirits are funny.”

Jack smiled and accepted the mug gratefully. “Thank you.”

“So, Jack,” the fall spirit said as he sat down at the table and beckoned for Jack to sit as well. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

Jack sat down, sipped his tea for a moment, and then began to talk. It was like the floodgates opening. The lonely tale of the past years poured out of him even as he was careful not to mention the summer spirit he spent time with occasionally. He didn’t kiss and tell—it was his secret and hers. The fall spirit listened attentively, nodding and asking light questions where appropriate. When Jack finished, he was warm all over from the tea and it was late.

“Well,” the fall spirit said with a theatrical stretch. “I guess you’d better be going. I have to work one out for myself, if you know what I mean.”

Jack’s blue eyes darted towards the staircase, to the fall spirit, and back again. He set down his mug with a soft clink, wet his lips, and then offered lamely, “If you let me stay, I could…”

The fall spirit’s green eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Jack nodded, pressing his lips into a thin nervous line. 

“Well, sure,” the fall spirit said hungrily. “If you make it good enough, I’ll let you stay the night.”

Eagerly, Jack nodded. He set his staff aside and followed the fall spirit over to the neatly-made bed. It was nothing like the summer sprite’s nest, but Jack was happy enough. The fall spirit shrugged out of his tunic and leafy vest. Then, he sank down on the bed and removed his prosthetic foot before sliding off his pants. Naked, he waited with his knees parted, eyes lit hungrily on Jack as the frost sprite approached. His member twitched with interest, rising slowly. 

“What is it?” the fall spirit asked when Jack hesitated before him. “Is it your first time?”

Jack shook his head and dropped to his knees between the autumn spirit’s legs. 

His hands were chillingly cold on the fall spirit’s bare skin and his mouth was cool but wonderfully wet. Jack wrapped one hand around the base and began to bob his head in time with practiced strokes. His soft tongue pressed to the pulsing vein on the underside, swirled around the sensitive head, and dipped against the slit. Noisily and wetly, he sucked and licked and lapped. Then, in one smooth motion, he swallowed deeper until the walls of his throat were clenching deliciously around the swollen head of the fall spirit’s member. He purred deep in his chest, the vibrations going right into the sensitive organ. 

The fall spirit was nearly undone in moments. How could this lonely little winter sprite be so good at sucking? 

When he came, Jack swallowed all of it like an obedient woman. Jack stared up at the fall spirit with those bright earnest blue eyes, watching as he panted for breath and tried to pull himself back together in the aftershocks of pleasure. 

“Was it good enough?” Jack asked softly. “Can I stay?”

Soaking in the afterglow, the fall spirit merely nodded and patted the space beside him on the bed. 

Jack clambered into the bed and lay down happily, curling on his side so he was facing the fall spirit. His blue eyes glowed in the darkness and it was a little unnerving. To hide his unease, the fall spirit put his arms around Jack and pulled him close.

“That was amazing,” he admitted. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Around,” Jack murmured. 

“You should stop by and visit more often,” the fall spirit said.

A little shard of Jack’s heart soared. “Really?”

“Sure, if you keep that up.”

“What if I don’t?” Jack asked softly.

The fall spirit remained silent and Jack let the question drop. He had been in this situation before. Some spirits only wanted him so long as he serviced them and Jack couldn’t bring himself to refuse. So long as it made them look at him, talk to him, touch him, he would do near anything.

“Okay,” Jack murmured into the fall spirit’s bare chest, relishing the skin-to-skin contact. “Okay.”

“Good,” the fall spirit said. 

He began to gently stroke Jack’s pale hair. Jack shivered, trembling as the sensations washed through his starving body. He cuddled as close as he dared, but the autumn sprite never pushed him away even when he brushed his lips gingerly against the fine hairs on the other spirit’s chest. He continued to pet and stroke Jack’s hair and back for the longest time. Jack melted in his arms like frost dissolving beneath the summer sun until he finally fell asleep. 

In the morning, he had to go.

…

Years passed. Jack Frost still had a few months before he was allowed to return to the summer spirit’s den and he wasn’t quite desperate enough to go back to the fall spirit and service him in exchange for soft touches. So, as he often did when he was at his loneliest, he flew across the world as if its vastness could fill the empty space inside him. Maybe somewhere out there, there was someone just for Jack—someone who didn’t mind that he wanted to be touched and cuddled and embraced like a child.

Jack flew to the coast and dropped out of the sky like a swallow. Moments before his body would be smashed to pieces on the ground, he swept himself to his feet and landed gently on the golden sand. For reasons he didn’t fully understand, he was afraid of the water, but he loved to look out over the endless ocean. The waves lapped at his toes, frosting over and then drawing back out to sea.

Jack sat down on the beach with his legs drawn up and just watched for a long time as the tide began to come in. A single blue crab waltzed at his side, threatening him with tiny pinchers, and Jack created a tiny wall of ice with the tip of his finger to keep it away. He collected the seashells that gathered around him and threw a starfish back out to sea. The ocean was endless, always busy, always up to something, with all the creatures that lived within it. Jack wondered if the ocean was ever lonely.

“You’re going to catch your death,” a sweet voice said behind him.

Jack jolted in surprise and turned quickly to see who had spoken. 

A spirit of spring stood behind him with her golden hair swept back into an impossibly long braid threaded with live flowers. She was wearing a purple dress with a wreath of flowers around her waist, her dainty feet were bare, and she smiled at him stunningly. She was beautiful.

“Hey,” Jack said. “It’s been a while.”

She pressed a hand to her lips and smiled. “It has, hasn’t it? How have you been?”

“The same,” he said and got to his feet.

She embraced him tenderly. “You have to meet my love,” she said with a smile. 

“Your love?” Jack repeated and a little piece of him deflated. 

She nodded, tucked a loose petal of hair back, and turned towards the vast dunes behind her. “Sweetheart!” she called. “Come here! There’s someone I want you to meet!”

A young man with brown hair appeared over the crest of the golden sand, out of breath and grouchily toting a large umbrella and a picnic basket. He slid down the dune and came to stop beside the beautiful spring sprite with one hand resting possessively on her shoulder as he looked Jack over. “Who’s this winter sprite?”

“Jack Frost,” she explained. “He and I used to be—”

“Lovers?” the young man asked with a cheeky smirk.

The spring spirit smacked him with the back of her hand. “Close your mouth,” she said tersely. “You know better. You know I was waiting for true love.”

Jack awkwardly watched as they fell into each other’s arms and kissed. 

He had missed this spring spirit the most over the years that passed. He used to spend so much time with her since she was just as lonely as he was. They used to lie together in the grass, build snow forts until her flowers wilted, and just comfort each other through the long years. She was the only spirit who had never wanted more from Jack. She was soft and tender and he loved being with her. Then, one day, she told Jack she had met the one and asked him not to come back. She couldn’t be with him when there was another she loved—it wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

Jack realized now that this brown-haired sprite of indeterminable season was the spring spirit’s love. Jack would never tell her, but this man of hers had once been one of Jack’s hungry lovers. He allowed Jack to stay with him so long as he kept his clothes off and let him take Jack whenever he pleased. Thinking back, Jack realized that this playboy had probably been screwing them both at the same time. His skin crawled with the thought. 

He almost opened his mouth, almost told the beautiful spring spirit the truth of her ‘one true love,’ but the brown-haired man silenced him with a sharp look. Jack closed his mouth and curled his fingers around his staff tightly, watching as their kiss drew to a close.

“So, Jack, was it?” the other spirit said loftily. “Do you want to join us for a little picnic? My sweetie here ripens the best bananas.”

“Oh, yes, Jack,” the spring sprite said eagerly. “Please do.”

Jack couldn’t turn away the offer of company, even if he had wanted to. He nodded and followed them down the beach to a small cove framed by dark rocks. The spring spirit spread out a quilt of flowers and vines, her love set down the picnic basket and the umbrella, and Jack stood cautiously to the side. He didn’t know why, but something felt off to him. He remembered this spring sprite being so much more demure and chaste, but as she bent over, her breasts swelled over the neck of her dress and her skirt lifted too high. 

Then, she sat down in her love’s lap and began unpacking the basket. She removed a pot of honey, a bunch of bananas, some strawberries, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of wine that she handed to Jack with a smile. (1) “Will you chill it?”

Jack nodded, sat down beside them, and pressed his hand to the glass until the wine was crisp and perfect. The spring sprite uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses. One she handed to her love. She drained the other quickly, poured more into the same glass, and handed it to Jack.

“It’s cranberry wine,” she said sweetly. “Try some, you’ll like it.”

Jack took a sip and felt the burn of the alcohol all the way down. He coughed into his elbow and flushed frost. “That’s strong,” he said softly.

She giggled, dipped a strawberry into the honey, and fed it to her love. Then, she took a piece of banana, dipped it, and held it out to Jack with a sultry smile. “Here,” she cooed. “Try some of this.”

Jack glanced at her love and saw the man smirking at him. He almost declined, but she leaned closer so that her breasts swelled over the top of her dress and Jack could feel the heat of her body. She pressed the sticky fruit to his lips and the moment to protest had passed. Jack opened his mouth and accepted the delicious morsel.

She giggled, put a piece of chocolate into her mouth, and then turned to her love. She kissed him, sharing the chocolate, and Jack looked away.

“I should be going,” Jack said softly.

“No,” she pleaded and reached out to grasp his wrist lightly. “Stay, Jack. It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you.”

He chewed his lower lip, torn by his loneliness. 

“Yeah, Jack, stay,” the brown-haired spirit said silkily. Then, he grasped Jack’s other wrist and pulled him down. 

Unbalanced by the wine, Jack slid to his knees and pressed a hand to his reeling head. He felt them touching him and immediately melted into the caresses. The spring sprite eased him down against something firm and warm. Then, she lifted her skirt and slipped into Jack’s lap with her warm thighs around his hips. A familiar hardness pressed against Jack’s bottom.

“What are you doing?” he asked as his mind returned. “I thought you were—”

“Oh, Jack,” she said seductively. “Didn’t you know that spring is designed for coupling?”

“But, what about true love?” he asked.

“I have it,” she said and gently stroked Jack’s face. “But there’s more to life than true love.”

“Like great sex,” her lover rasped against Jack’s ear.

Jack shuddered at the heat and moisture as a tongue gingerly traced the shell of his ear. 

She poured another glass of wine, sipped it, and then pressed the cold glass to Jack’s lips. “Drink,” she said. “It’ll loosen you up.”

Jack did, uncertain of how to resist this even if he had wanted to, and the wine burned into his chest. Spring’s lover was pressed against his back and she was warm against his front. Their hands roamed his body, lavishing more touches than he had ever felt on his pale skin. He melted between them, lifted his own hands to gently press her closer, and stroked her soft hair. Oh Moon, she was so warm and soft and she responded to his every gesture as if she belonged to him.

“Jack,” she moaned and tilted her head back in a cascade of blonde tresses. 

Her lover slipped his hands beneath Jack’s shirt and tracked a path over his bare skin. Lightly, he rasped his thumbs over Jack’s nipples and then tugged the shirt until it was bunched beneath Jack’s arms. She dipped her head, tracing her tongue along the contours of Jack’s chest and stomach with a smile. She dipped her finger into the pot of honey, smeared some on Jack’s skin, and then licked it away. Her mouth was so hot and soft, interspersed with little nips that drove Jack to the edge.

Her lover’s hands left Jack’s chest, loosened the laces of her bodice, and then helped the garment fall. She moaned as the sunlight fell on her bare breasts like a physical touch. He cupped her breasts, pinching her nipple and tugging them teasingly until she was painfully close to Jack. She tangled her fingers in Jack’s pale hair and pulled him close to her chest, pleading with her eyes and hands until he obediently closed his cold lips around the little peaks. 

She hitched her hands beneath Jack’s shirt and peeled it over his head, discarding it somewhere in the sand. She scraped her hands along his frost-dusted shoulder and purred appreciatively in her throat. She dipped her head over Jack’s shoulder and kissed her lover noisily while Jack lavished attention on her breasts. Then, she lifted her skirt so that it bunched around her hips and straddled Jack closely, grinding down against him. 

“Don’t you want me?” she purred.

Jack only held her close, his hands resting on her naked back.

“I know what he needs, baby,” the brown-haired spirit said. 

Then, his hands hitched down Jack’s tight pants and exposed his soft member. She grasped his soft shaft gently and stroked it impatiently. Jack lifted his chin and kissed her, but she turned away, hungry for more than just a kiss. She wanted to feel the cold shaft of him deep inside of her. 

“Give me the honey,” her lover murmured. 

She handed him the small pot and he dipped his fingers in. Then, he probed at the core of Jack’s body and pushed one sticky finger inside. Jack arched between them, a little cry of surprise escaping his lips. The brown-haired spirit continued to work his fingers in and out of Jack’s body while the spring sprite stroked his member. It was all too much for Jack. There was too much sensation, too much heat and touch, too many lips against his throat and bare shoulders. 

The spring sprite kissed him hungrily, her tongue darting into his mouth flavored with honey and wine. Her tongue thrust against his, somehow matched the pace her lover set below with his fingers. Jack hardened and rocked his hips against her hand. She smiled, kissed him deeper, and lifted her hips to straddle him fuller. He could feel the heat and moisture of her core. Her lover fumbled at his own pants, freed his hard cock, and pushed easily into Jack’s cool body with a groan. 

“He’s so good,” he groaned.

She lowered herself down and Jack with a moan. “Ooh,” she breathed out. “It’s cold.”

“Sorry,” Jack whispered, but she silenced him with a kiss.

Her lover began to thrust, bucking hard up into Jack’s pliant body. Each rock of his hips drove Jack even deeper into the spring spirit. She was gasping, moaning, clinging to Jack’s shoulders as if he was an anchor in the storm. She tilted her head to kiss her lover, panting as the chain reaction pounded her small body.

Jack was trapped between them, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave anyway. Her lover’s shaft was warm and hard inside him, deep and long, driving against something that spiked pleasure all through his soul. She was sweet and soft against his front, clenching wetly around him. He had never been touched like this, never been touched so much by anyone. His skin burned, melted, with the contact. 

“Please, don’t stop,” Jack begged. 

They were all too eager to oblige him. 

Her lover redoubled his deep hard thrusts until Jack could barely get in a breath. She leaned down to kiss him, her tongue darting into his mouth. She tasted like chocolate and his blood boiled. The frost on his skin melted and frosted over in tandem, cooling all of them. 

Then, with a groan, her lover slammed deep into Jack’s thin body and spilled hot inside him. Then, he reached around Jack’s waist to pinch her little pearl delicately. She threw her head back and tightened her muscles around the shaft of Jack inside her. All at once, there was nothing but heat and moisture. Jack came cool inside her and she shuddered at the feeling.

“We should do this again sometime,” her lover remarked as he softened inside Jack.

She nodded her agreement, took a sip of wine, and kissed Jack to pour the liquor into his mouth.

Afterwards, they lay on the blanket of flowers and sand. She fed each of them honeyed fruits and wine. She touched Jack constantly, stroked his bare chest with her fingertips, and ran her fingers through the cool silk of his hair. She laid flowers on his chest, rubbed honey into his skin and licked it away, and kissed him often. Jack allowed her to hold him even as her lover’s seed dripped from inside his body. The used raw feeling that always welled within him afterwards was a small price to pay for the closeness that always followed.

It was worth it.

…

After that, Jack Frost left behind the continents where spring had sprung and summer was in full bloom. Alone, he drifted over the Rocky Mountains, the Himalayas, the Swiss Alps. He brought a new dusting of snow to these high cold places where winter was welcome year-round. He was alone, but at least not everyone who looked at him was using him. He knew if he was given a choice between having sex or being alone, he would always choose sex, but he wished just once one of the other spirits would let him stay for more than a night.

Pushing away those thoughts, Jack flew a little faster, sweeping himself along the cushion of the clouds and collecting flakes on his skin. Then, rising out of the mist like a vision, he saw the castle of purest ice. It shone, sparkled, glinted like a jewel in the sunlight, but showed no signs of melting. 

Intrigued, he lowered himself onto the snow and stared up at the beautiful bridge of ice. Jack climbed the steps slowly, running his fingertips along the railing as he looked at the chasm below. He could feel winter magic here and his heart began to pound with excitement. At the top of the stairs was a door emblazoned with an ornate angular snowflake. He took a deep breath and knocked.

For a long moment, no one answered. 

Then, the door eased open on silent hinges and Jack stared down at a tiny snowman with a bright carrot nose.

“Hi!” the snowman said cheerfully. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jack Frost,” he said easily. “Did you build this castle?”

“No. Why?” the snowman asked quickly.

Jack didn’t really know how to answer that. “Well, I was just… looking for another winter spirit. Is there one here?”

“Yes. Why?” the snowman repeated.

Jack blinked and stared at the snowman. “Just… because.”

“Why?” the snowman asked again.

Jack stared, his eyes wide.

“Olaf!” called a voice inside. “Who is it?”

Jack looked up in time to see a pair of beautiful young women coming down a sweeping staircase. The first had platinum hair braided with sparkling snowflakes and she wore a dress that looked to be woven from winter itself. She sparkled, glowed, and Jack felt the kinship of their powers. The second had auburn hair plaited into twin braids that hung over her shoulders. She was wearing a thick cotton dress patterned with hearts and snowflakes. Though Jack felt winter magic on her too, it was more like a trace, as if a thread was shared between the two female spirits.

“Who are you?” the first asked, stepping in front of the other young woman. “How did you find this place?”

“I’m Jack Frost,” he offered gently. “I was just passing by when I saw your castle and I thought I’d—”

“Who is it?” the second young woman asked.

“Go back upstairs,” the blonde said urgently. “We don’t know if he’s dangerous or not.”

“I’m not dangerous,” Jack protested. “Can I just talk to you for a little while?”

The auburn-haired girl peeked around the blonde. “He looks nice,” she said absently. 

“Winter is dangerous,” the blonde said sternly. 

“I know,” she murmured softly.

“I’d like you to leave,” the blonde told Jack with a softness that spoke of fear rather than cruelty. If things were different, maybe she would let him stay, but right now, she couldn’t. “I have to protect my sister.”

“I won’t hurt you, honest,” Jack promised.

“Come on,” the other girl said eagerly. “Let him stay… just for a little while…”

“No,” the first girl said. “We don’t know him. We don’t know if we can trust him.”

“How will we know if we never give him a chance?” the second girl asked. 

“Maybe some other time,” the platinum-haired girl gently insisted. “Right now, we can’t risk it. I’m not ready.”

Jack took a step backwards, slipping on the ice slightly. These two sisters were clearly afraid of other spirits and Jack couldn’t really blame them. As many times as other spirits had helped him, he had been hurt more. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to be alone together. Without another word, he turned and flew away, leaving the ice castle behind him. When he returned several months later, the castle was gone without a trace.

…

Then, something amazing happened. 

The Man in the Moon, after centuries of silence, spoke and chose Jack Frost to become a Guardian. The stone glowed with the image of the slender frost-child, standing alone with his hood drawn up over his face and his hooked staff clutched in one hand.

“Jack Frost,” Nicholas St. North remarked with a lifted brow. “Really, Manny?”

Toothiana paused and flew slowly around the bright statue as if deciding something.

“Jack Frost!” E. Aster Bunnymund shouted in shock. “Are you kidding me? That kid can never be a Guardian. He’s a—he’s a—”

Sanderson Mansnoozie conjured the image of a bed out of golden dreamsand.

“Exactly,” Bunny continued with a wave of his paw. “We can’t expect someone like that to protect children and fight alongside us.”

“The children are in danger,” Tooth put in softly. “The world is in serious trouble.” 

“And if this trouble was taking place in someone’s pants, then we could call Jack Frost,” Bunny snapped.

“Man in Moon chose him,” North said simply. “We must find him and bring him here.”

Bunny snorted disdainfully. “Yeah, and I’ll just prepare a bed for him.”

“If you choose to sleep with winter spirit, that is up to you,” North said flatly and walked away.

Tooth giggled at the expression of mingled disgust and shock on Bunny’s face. “We have to protect the children,” she said. “If MiM thinks Jack Frost can help us, then I think we can overlook his history.”

Sandy nodded, releasing a slew of sand symbols too fast to understand.

“Fine, mates, fine,” Bunny relented and followed his fellow Guardians out of the Globe Room. 

It didn’t take them long to find the frost-spirit and bring him to the North Pole. Bunny’s first impression was that Jack certainly had a bright flirtatious smile. He was attractive enough with his pale hair, bright blue eyes, and flawless white skin, but he was far too skinny and flighty. He seemed like a nice enough kid, but man, the rumors preceded him. Everyone knew Jack Frost was so desperate that he would sleep with anyone. How could someone like this ever be a Guardian?

Things happened too quickly after that for Bunny to waste precious time picking at Jack Frost. He forced himself to put aside the rumors and focus. Pitch Black certainly wasn’t wasting time. He put his plan into action quickly, filling the world with fear and darkness and pulling the rug of belief out from beneath the Guardians. For a while, everything seemed completely hopeless. Sandy was gone, destroyed by fear and nightmares, and that appeared to be the end.

But Jack Frost fought harder than any of them ever could have expected. He wasn’t afraid of the Boogeyman and he wasn’t afraid of anything else. He didn’t know Sandy well enough to be crippled by grief like the rest of the Guardians. Though he could be tempted, he managed to keep himself in check. Almost single-handedly, Jack Frost brought down Pitch and restored belief to the children of the world. Bunny never would have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.

North swore the boy in and Jack’s face opened like a flower beneath the sun. He smiled, he beamed, he positively glowed. Before Bunny could even object, Jack Frost became a Guardian, but Bunny wasn’t sure he could have protested anyway. Jack had pulled through, had saved them all, and that was the fact of the matter. Did it matter that he’d fall into anyone’s bed at a moment’s notice? Not really, not so long as he brought happiness to the children of the world.

Over the months that followed though, the Guardians came to know Jack Frost and they—especially Bunny—realized that not everything might have been as it appeared.

It became apparent that Jack Frost was breathtakingly lonely. He did anything they asked of him, even if it was silly or dangerous. He flitted about like a misplaced breeze as if he would wear out his welcome if he stayed in any one place to long. 

The Guardians learned that in three hundred years, not a single child had ever seen Jack Frost. He had been alone the entire time, seen only by other spirits who had no time for him. They manipulated and took advantage of him and Jack was so desperate for attention that he couldn’t say no. The Guardians started making a point to invite Jack to stay with them. They took the time to talk with him, to pat him on the back, to look right into his eyes and see the void of loneliness staring back. 

Bunny couldn’t believe what this sweet boy had been through. How could anyone be so lonely that they would let spirits use them as they pleased? But Jack had been that friendless, had been that desperate, had been abandoned. Rather than actually help him, the other spirits had just manipulated him. They had used him as they pleased and thrown him away afterwards, yet Jack had continued to come back each time. He had been that starved for affection and companionship. 

It was sickening.

…

Jack had been with the Guardians for just a little over six months. His smile had grown brighter, his eyes were a little less hungry, and his skin glowed with happiness. He was nothing like the lonely wisp that had come to them at their moment of need. He was almost a whole person, full of laugher and fun and pranks that sometimes made Bunny want to kill him. When North wanted to thrown a party, Jack was the first one to agree and he poured everything he had into helping out. 

Within a week, Jack and North had everything put together. Spirits were coming from all over to celebrate the changing of the seasons from summer to fall. North bought enough liquor to sink a ship, Jack decorated the high rafters, Bunny created fine chocolates, Tooth put out a vegetable platter, and Sandy crafted an elaborate glowing chandelier out of dreamsand. Then, it was time to party and the workshop was filled with the sound of Jack’s laughter.

The Guardians’ hearts were light. 

A few hours later, Jack was standing off to the side, trying to catch his breath. The room was spinning slightly and he put down the glass of eggnog that Sandy had given him. The party was so warm and lively. It was like nothing Jack had ever experienced. Everyone was talking to him, clapping him on the back, smiling at him. His heart felt full to bursting.

“Jack,” came a sweet throbbing voice.

He turned to face the stunning redheaded summer spirit. “Hey,” he greeted. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

She swayed her hips and pressed close against him, resting her hand above his heart. “I’d be enjoying myself more if you could find us a room all to ourselves,” she purred.

Jack was pressed against the wall and couldn’t escape as she leaned up to kiss him.

“Come on, Jack,” she crooned. “You never come around anymore. I miss you.”

“Really?” he asked, heart on his sleeve. 

She nodded and licked her lips. “Come on,” she purred. “Let’s blow this place and go back to my den.”

Jack’s heart skipped a sudden beat, shuddering in his chest like a bird that had forgotten how to fly. “In the morning, would I have to leave?”

Her cornflower eyes flashed. “Of course, Jack,” she said. “You know I have to work.”

Jack pulled away and ducked under her arm. “Sorry,” he said and the words emboldened him like a rush of power. “I don’t need to do that anymore, but if you want to be my friend—”

She barked a hollow laugh. “Your friend?” she repeated incredulously. “Who would ever want to be your friend?”

Stricken, Jack took a step back and bumped hard into another spirit. He whirled sharply to face the fall spirit he used to suck off for a gentle embrace. 

“Hey,” the fall spirit said silkily. “Is this an open party, Jack?” He ran his hand down Jack’s chest and then between his legs to give him a little squeeze. “We can both do you. Think of all the nice snuggles you’ll get when we’re finished with you.”

Jack pulled sharply away, his eyes wide with shock. “What?”

“Oh, please,” came a third voice and it was a spirit Jack didn’t even recognize. “Don’t play coy. It’s not as cute as you think it is.”

“What?” Jack breathed out, his heart pounding a ragged tattoo against his ribs. 

“You don’t come around anymore since you became a Guardian,” the summer spirit said. “Do they use you too hard?”

“What? No,” Jack whispered. He wet his lips, backing away as best he could, but spirits had closed in on all sides of him.

“We all know you’ll jump into bed with anyone, Jack Frost,” the strange spirit taunted. “You’re a slut. You’ll spread your legs for anyone who gives you the time of day.”

Jack’s throat went dry and closed over. He was trapped, pinned between all three of these spirits who were looking at him as if he was a meal to be messily devoured. His eyes flashed wildly from one face to another. A few other partygoers had turned to look at him hungrily. “Everyone?” he whispered. “Everyone knows? Everyone thinks that?”

The summer spirit threw back her head and laughed. “Oh Moon,” she chortled. “He actually thinks he’s worth something. Isn’t that precious?”

The fall spirit joined in, laughing mostly through his nose. “I bet the Guardians have been telling him that,” he guffawed. “And he believed it!”

“I bet they tell him that right after they finish using him up. Tell me, Jack, do they take you all at once or one at time?” the strange spirit added.

“What is all this?” North’s voice cut through the terrible cackling like a hot knife through butter and the three spirits immediately fell silent. A hush spread over the room. North glared down at them, his arms folded over his burly chest. “What is going on here? Jack?”

Jack turned to face North and his blue eyes welled with tears. “I-I-I…” Then, his eyes raced wildly from North to the other Guardians and back again. Without another word, a gust of freezing wind swept through the party and Jack was gone.

Bunny and Tooth closed in around the three taunting spirits, arms folded and eyes set like hard jewels. Sandy floated down from above, his eyes focused with rage even though he had drank far too much eggnog to be dangerous. Together, the four Guardians glared at the treacherous spirits.

“Care to explain,” Bunny hissed. 

The summer spirit tossed some red hair back over her shoulder, undaunted. “We just told him the truth,” she said shortly. “It’s cute that you Guardians let Jack believe he’s worth anything, but he’s always been a whore and he always will be. I had him first.”

“No, you didn’t,” protested the brown-haired lover of spring. “I had him long before any of you. I had him when he was a virgin.”

“He’s never been a virgin,” the summer spirit snapped. 

“How dare you,” Bunny snapped. “How dare all of you. He was just a lonely boy and you took advantage of him.”

“I think the Easter Bunny is upset because he didn’t get to Jack while he was so usable,” the summer spirit remarked haughtily. “Give it time and I’m sure he’ll spread his legs for you, too, Bunny.”

“I ought to kill you!” Bunny shouted and lunged at the summer sprite.

“Enough!” Tooth shouted and grabbed Bunny by one of his long ears. “You will all leave, right now! The party is over!”

“Get out,” North said icily. “You may come back if you learn how to behave.”

It didn’t take long for the large workshop to empty out. North wasn’t a spirit that anyone was stupid enough to cross and he was already enraged. Once the last spirit left and Tooth closed the door with a heavy sigh, the four Guardians turned to each other. 

“We need to find Jack,” Bunny murmured, “and sort all this out.”

“How?” Tooth asked and pushed a hand through her feathers. “The entire spirit world thinks Jack is just a toy. It’s amazing Jack never found out before this. He’s too sweet.”

“We just have to bring him back and talk to him,” Bunny insisted.

Sandy raised the image of high mountains out of dreamsand. ‘He probably went somewhere cold,’ he signed. 

North stroked his beard. “Let’s split up,” he said. “When someone finds Jack, come back here and send out the Aurora Signal.” 

They all nodded in agreement and rushed out into the snowy weather that surrounded the North Pole. Bunnymund watched the others until they were out of sight and then started through the frigid snow. Abruptly, he stopped and took a moment to think. Where would Jack go when he was upset? It wasn’t as if Jack had other friends and North’s workshop had been his home these past few months. Bounding through the snow, Bunny craned his head to get a good look at the workshop. He could see a little whirlwind of snow and ice at the very center of the roof, just beside the chimney.

“Bingo,” Bunny said and rushed back inside. It took him a while to find a window that led onto the roof, but he finally made his way up and trudged through the thick snow. 

Jack was pressed up against the chimney, his knees drawn to his chest and his face hidden in them. He had pulled up his hood, hiding within the small sanctuary of his worn blue sweater. His frail shoulders shook with uncontrollable sobs.

“Jack,” Bunny ventured and gently touched the boy’s shoulder.

Jack jolted and immediately tried to fly away, but Bunny had expected this and held on tightly.

“Hey, now,” Bunny soothed. “There’s no need for that. Come inside. I want to talk to you.”

“No,” Jack pleaded. “Just let me go.”

“None of that,” Bunny said lightly and wiped Jack’s cheek with his paw. Frozen tears stuck to his fur, but he didn’t mind. “You know those spirits were wrong, don’t you?”

Jack whimpered softly. “No,” he whispered. “They’re right… I did. I slept with anyone who—”

Bunny hushed him. “They’re the ones in the wrong, mate,” he murmured. “They should have helped you and been your friends, but they only used you.”

A fresh wave of tears rolled down Jack’s face and he sniffled. “But… if I hadn’t…”

“Hadn’t what?” Bunny said evenly. “Hadn’t wanted to be touched and talked to like any other living being?”

Jack’s eyes glowed with sadness and he breathed out raggedly. 

“Come inside,” Bunny said. “The others are worried. They’re out looking for you right now. We should let them know you’re okay.”

Weakly, Jack nodded and let Bunny tow him back into the workshop through the open window. Together, they walked to the Globe Room and Bunny sent out the signal. Then, they waited for the other Guardian’s to return. Jack stood nervously to one side, looking at the ruined remains of the party. 

“I ruined everything,” Jack whispered. 

Bunny put an arm around the frost-child and drew him close. “You didn’t,” he assured Jack. “Those others spirits with no morals did. They shouldn’t have said those things or done that to you.”

“I just… I wanted them to like me,” Jack whispered as he stared vacantly at the empty room. “I wanted them to let me stay, to talk to me, to see me. I was so desperate… I wanted a friend, someone who liked me, so I just thought… if I let them…”

Bunny hugged Jack closer, squeezing the boy’s thin body against his warm fur. “Someone who really likes you won’t ask you to do that, Jack,” Bunny murmured. “They’ll stand by you no matter what you do or don’t do.”

Jack wiped his eyes with his hand. “Like you guys? Like the Guardians?”

“Exactly,” Bunny said gently. “Anytime you need a little attention, you just come to one of us. We won’t take advantage, I promise.”

Jack sniffled and wrapped both arms around Bunny’s furry midsection. He crushed his face into Bunny and breathed cool and soft against his fur, trembling, for a very long time. When the other Guardians returned to this sight, they wordlessly pressed in around Bunny and Jack. Tooth was light and warm against his thin back. Sandy rested on Bunny’s shoulder and put his small hand through the cool silk of Jack’s hair. North wrapped the four of them in his big arms and squeezed tightly until there was no room left to be lonely.

X X X

(1) Honey, chocolate, and bananas are all natural aphrodisiacs.

Original prompt: During the 300 years Jack couldn't be seen, he sought affection from spirits. He wasn't a slut, but it was easy for people to manipulate him into sexual relationships because he wanted them to love him. Jack never slept with the Guardians, but to most other spirits, he's known as the Community Bike. At some party, Jack gets into a fight with one of the meaner spirits and he/she mocks him about being so desperate to be liked that he'll sleep with anyone. Bunnymund doesn't like when people ridicule Jack.

Questions, comments, concerns?

**Drop a review, please!**


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